If You Return to Me
by LucyLuna
Summary: Klaus uses his sudden sobriety to his benefit. Post-Season 1. One-Shot.


_If You Return to Me_

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The immediate benefit of being thirteen again was the shocking sobriety. Klaus's thirteen-year-old body was downright virginal. It'd never touched anything harder than cough syrup. Klaus knew that wouldn't be the case for long because even though his body craved none of the illicit substances he once lived off of, his mind screamed for it. His psyche was always far more dependent on the distractions and shields than his body ever had been anyway. While Klaus didn't plan to go right back to the hard stuff, he did think he'd join Number Five in drinking away his worst memories— If only so he might have some semblance of a full night's rest once more.

However, before he started up that nasty habit again, he wanted to try one thing. It was late. Far later than he had any right to be awake for if you were to ask dear old Dad, but he hadn't, so Klaus tried not to think about him too much. He was in his bedroom at the Academy, but instead of in his bed, he sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed as he tried to commune with the dead. But not just any dead, Klaus was trying to call forward _Dave_. He sat there for the longest time, whispering under his breath, "Come on, come on, Dave… Come on…"

It, however, did nothing.

Klaus's legs were going numb from being fixed in their position of one being bent over the other and his hands and feet cold from his lack of movement and his shoulders and neck stiff from how long he'd been holding himself up straight. Despair finally caught up with him and bitter, furious tears fought to escape from his closed eyes. Why did nothing ever go his way? Why couldn't the fucking universe give him a break for once and let him see _Dave_? Even if it was only once, even if it was only for a split-second, Klaus would take it. The feeling of defeat overwhelming him, he took a ragged breath and then let his face fall into his hands as the tears he'd been battling finally won the war and flooded past his lashes.

"Dave…" he moaned.

"Oh fuck, Klaus? Is that you?"

His eyes flew open and his head snapped to attention. In front of him was _Dave_. The man, rather, the _spirit_, was crouched in front of him. Dave's face was still a little grimy like Klaus last remembered it being and he was dressed in the fatigues he died in. Dave's gaze was full of shock and wonder like he couldn't believe his eyes. Maybe he couldn't. Klaus would understand. The last time Dave saw him he was an adult, one that was even older than he was at that. Now, Klaus was an ungainly thirteen-year-old dressed in ugly pajamas smackdab in the middle of a kid's bedroom. He reached up and tried to touch Dave, but it didn't work and a new siege of tears overwhelmed his eyes.

"Hey, hey," Dave soothed. He looked like he wanted to take Klaus's face in his war-calloused hands, but, instead, kept them tightly tucked between his knees. It made his tears run faster, his soldier-boy was already on his way to understanding they'd never be able to feel each other's touch again. "I'm here Klaus."

He shook his head and fisted his hands in his hair. "No, no, no," he whimpered. "It's not okay. You're dead and I… I couldn't do anything!"

"Klaus…"

Klaus cried harder and began to rock himself back and forth as Dave tried tirelessly to get him to look at him. Finally, after what was felt like forever and then some, but really only could have been ten minutes, Dave grew short with his refusal to look at him and his tone took on an angry edge as he snarled, "Damnit! Would you just look at me? We can work through this together if you'd just look up!"

His teeth rattled together from the strength of the hand grabbing his chin and forcing it up. For a long, still moment Klaus just stared at Dave who stared back at him. His expression just as stunned as his own. Ben had begun to interact with the physical world too right before the end of the world. Neither had been able to come up with a satisfactory reason for why or figured out how that worked. It'd become something of a moot point in the past week since they'd woken up thirteen and in the past. Ben was alive again, why did it matter what he could and couldn't do as a ghost anymore?

Klaus had half-believed it had something to do with their extraordinary abilities, but maybe that wasn't the case. Dave was ordinary. His fingers went to his chin. He brushed them over where he'd felt Dave's grip and awed at the tingling feeling left behind. "You touched me," he whispered.

"I'm sorry," mumbled Dave. "I just wanted you to look at me. I didn't mean—"

Klaus smiled giddily, the worst of his despair forgotten for the time being. "No," he cut in. "It's okay."

His soldier-boy still looked uncertain, but offered a shy grin of his own. "You know, Klaus, you make a really cute kid."

He scoffed. "Do not," he denied. "I was always the ugly duckling of my family until the puberty fairy came along and turned me into a _swan_." To emphasize his point, he extended his neck out and stretched his arms skyward, giving them a small flap as he smirked.

Dave chuckled a moment, but soon enough his handsome face turned suspicious and confused. "I know you've always been a bit… _different_," Klaus's soldier-boy said, "and I liked that. I gotta say, though, this is more than different. It's insane. Why are you a kid? How on earth did you bring me here? And how are you able to not only see and hear me, but be touched by me?"

Klaus sucked in a deep breath and raked a hand through his hair. "That's a very, very complicated story," he said. "Do you mind if I get comfy on the bed there before I tell it? I've been sitting on this floor for so _long_." He waggled his eyebrows at Dave. "You're welcome to join me, by the way."

His soldier-boy flushed and looked away. "That seems… _wrong_, Klaus."

He tried not to feel too hurt. Dave was good. So, so good and if he felt weird about laying down next to someone who looked like a kid on a twin bed, then it was okay. Really. Even so, he fluttered his eyes at Dave. "Suit yourself, lover."

Dave winced. "Klaus," he grumbled.

He laughed before getting to his feet and stumbling to his bed, throwing back the covers he climbed in and settled down. Dave was still standing where he left him. Klaus rolled his eyes and gave the side of the bed a pat. "You can still take a seat," he said. "That's not weird."

His soldier-boy reluctantly nodded. Moving over, he perched himself by Klaus's feet, not so much as creating a dip in the mattress or wrinkle in the covers from the action. Grinning down at Dave, who looked back with expectant and curious eyes Klaus gave his toes a wriggle before he turned his gaze to the ceiling. "Alright, so, let's see where I should start." He stretched his arms back behind his head and said, "Let me warn you, Dave, it's a _long_ and tragic, yet hopeful story."

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**Because Klaus totally deserves to have Dave by his side, even if it's as a ghost.**

**Thanks a million for reading :)**


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